


Solanum Flare

by the_genderman



Series: Rotisserie Chickenverse [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Arguing, Armitage Hux is So Done, Humor, Kylo Ren Being a Little Shit, M/M, Pre-Slash, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Slightly suggestive, Weird Fluff, kitchen mishaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_genderman/pseuds/the_genderman
Summary: Did Hux need to hear about Ren’s latest little “incident”? Yes. Did he need to hear about it in the middle of a conference call? No.
Relationships: Armitage Hux & Kylo Ren
Series: Rotisserie Chickenverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095983
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Solanum Flare

**Author's Note:**

> _Solanum tuberosum_ is the species name of the humble potato. “Solanum flare” is a, frankly, unforgivably terrible pun. I apologize for nothing.
> 
> Have I used this general plot in a story before? Yes. However, it’s too good not to tweak for these two, as well. It is an adjusted-for-this-fandom retelling of a story one of my coworkers told years ago. We still do not know how he managed to set his microwave on fire with just a potato.

Hux probably would have tried to ignore the sudden and insistent beeping of the ‘incoming call’ alert on his datapad if Admiral Griss, holo’ing in from the Steadfast, hadn’t commented on it. _Whichever wet-behind-the-ears cadet’s datapad is interrupting us had better silence it before I find out who they are. I should have thought everyone here would be smart enough to know how to properly take part in a conference call_. Hux hoped his mortified and angry flush wouldn’t translate well in the monochrome blue of the holo display. The rest of his posture and bearing was as impeccable as ever. Of _course_ he was smart enough to know how to silence his datapad in a conference call. Unfortunately, Ren was also smart enough to know how to send an override along with his own calls. And persistent enough to try again if he didn’t get an answer. Hux quickly and surreptitiously double-tapped the button on his datapad to accept the holo and then immediately hang up. He estimated he had about thirty seconds before Ren realized what he’d done and called back.

Luckily, Hux was good at thinking on his feet. He made another few covert taps on his datapad to make his holo feed begin to stutter like the signal was breaking up. He couldn’t see it himself, but he knew what it would look like. A few heads turned to look questioningly at him and he made himself look busy trying to fix it. Good. It was working. Instead, he muted his holo feed—just in time, as the incoming call alert began to beep again. He knew if he didn’t answer for a second time, Ren would simply come find him, which certainly wasn’t ideal. He mouthed a few empty words at the rest of the conference, pretending to answer their inane ‘ _what’s wrong with your feed, General?_ ’ questions. He frowned down at his datapad, turned to snap at a non-existent out-of-frame lackey for the loss of holo fidelity, and deepened his frown. The beeping continued. Hux shook his head, poked at his datapad, and killed the call, making it look like it had been lost through external forces. All the other holos at the table blinked out.

“What is _so_ important you had to interrupt the Fleet Command conference call?” Hux said, practically yelling as he tapped at his datapad to accept Ren’s holo, glaring at the sudden appearance of a miniature version of his co-commander standing on the table in front of him.

“Your microwave’s on fire,” Ren deadpanned over the whine of a smoke detector.

Hux blinked.

Ren stared back at him.

“Please tell me you meant that it _was_ on fire but has since been extinguished. Also, what in the stars’ names did you _do_?” Hux sighed.

Ren looked off to his left, his hand moved to what must be his holocam, and then the focus blurred. When it steadied again, the holo very clearly showed the microwave in Hux’s kitchenette, very clearly on fire. The fire seemed to be contained within the interior of the appliance, but it was still _a fire_. The window panel of the microwave door looked like it was melting a little and smoke was seeping out of the no-longer-intact seals of the door.

“Ren!” Hux absolutely did not yelp. “What are you doing calling me? Put it out! If you burn down my quarters I will personally murder you.”

“It’s almost out already,” Ren said, and Hux could _hear_ him shrugging it off. The holo blurred and focused back on Ren again. “See? It’ll be fine.”

“What did you do?!” Hux demanded, ignoring the little ping from his datapad—its alert that his blood pressure was becoming worryingly elevated. If it wasn’t bad enough that Ren’s ‘ _entourage_ ’ had brought some horrible vermin onboard the Finalizer that had caused an entire wing of officers’ quarters to need to be quarantined and fumigated, Ren was being temporarily housed with him due to the temporary lack of appropriate living spaces. Just because they were co-commanders didn’t mean they had to be roommates, too. Hux might find him nice enough to look at, but _living_ with him? Two days in and Ren had just set his microwave on fire.

“I don’t know, I was reheating a potato,” Ren explained, again, far too casually.

“You have to take the foil off first!” Hux groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “As the master of the Knights of Ren, I would have expected you to be at _least_ competent enough to remove the foil from the potato before trying to microwave it.”

“I did!” Ren shot back, sounding offended. “And I know this won’t help, but have you _met_ the Knights? Most of them would microwave the foil by itself on purpose!”

Hux set his datapad down on the table and covered his face with both his hands. He gave a muffled scream. 

“I’ll get you a new one,” Ren said. Hux thought it sounded suspiciously like a concession. Ren did not concede. He did not admit weakness or error or defeat. Especially not defeat at the hands of a kitchen appliance.

“Ok. Ok,” Hux said, trying to breathe and speak more slowly, more steadily, to calm himself. “Explain to me what happened. You put the potato in the microwave— _without_ the foil—and you turned the microwave on? How long did you set it for?"

“I just hit the potato button,” Ren began to explain. “It was still cold after that, so I put it back in and hit the potato button again. I left the kitchen because Millie was making weird noises and I wanted to make sure the bugs hadn’t gotten all the way down here—don’t worry, she was just playing with her catnip-loth-rat—and when I came back the microwave was on fire. I don’t know what happened.”

“My microwave doesn’t have a potato button,” Hux said, anger momentarily replaced by puzzlement.

“Yeah it did,” Ren shot back. “It had a little icon of a potato on it. What would you call that if not a potato button?”

“I would say show me what you’re talking about when I get back to my quarters,” Hux said, “but you seem to have set the button and the whole microwave on fire. My microwave does not and has never had a potato button. What did it look like?”

“I just _said_ —it looked like a _potato_.”

“I have no idea what button you’re even talking about. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed it, much less _used_ it.”

“You notice _everything_ , how do you _not_ know what I’m talking about?” Ren pouted.

Hux pursed his lips, wishing Ren wouldn’t make _that_ face. It gave him a little tingly feeling and a few ideas that he shouldn’t rightfully be entertaining. Ren just stared back at him, pouting.

“ _Fine_ ,” Hux sighed. “Agree to disagree? I don’t know what you’re talking about, but whatever button it was, it’s no longer a problem for either of us because it is attached to a charred and melted piece of garbage that used to be my microwave. When you acquire a replacement, make sure it either does _not_ have whatever button you are calling the ‘potato button,’ or read the user manual.”

“No one reads the user manual—” Ren began to argue, but cut himself off. “Of course you’d read the user manual. I should have realized.”

“Yes. I do,” Hux said, looking pointedly towards where he knew his ex-microwave was in relation to Ren on his end of the holo. “It’s why I know that _it never had a potato button_.”

“Fine,” Ren said, pouting again. “Agree to disagree. I’ll go pick up a new microwave for you—will you grab some more potatoes from the Deck 4 commissary on your way back? I know it’s on your way.

“If you read the manual so you don’t set it on fire again, I will bring back some more potatoes.”

“Deal.”


End file.
